


Brotherly Love

by Prim_the_Amazing



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Slut Shaming, badwrong noncon porn, dark!Danny, trans tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: Danny comes back to London. There’s so many places in the world to visit, so many things and people to do and meet and enjoy, but he always eventually comes back to London, sporting a tan along with a dozen new exciting stories to share.His big brother lives there, after all. And Danny loves his brother.
Relationships: Danny Stoker/Tim Stoker
Comments: 18
Kudos: 90





	Brotherly Love

Danny comes back to London. There’s so many places in the world to visit, so many things and people to do and meet and enjoy, but he always eventually comes back to London, sporting a tan along with a dozen new exciting stories to share. 

His big brother lives there, after all. And Danny  _ loves _ his brother. 

“Tim, you don’t have to cancel on your date,” he says again, grinning. 

“Oh, shut up,” Tim says good naturedly, texting on his phone. “My little brother shows up after being away for  _ months,  _ and I’m gonna go and watch some movie I’ve already seen with a guy whose name I can barely remember? If he can’t stomach a raincheck, then it’s not a big loss.” 

As if they were actually going to  _ watch _ the movie, and not just neck in the back row. 

“Sorry I forgot to call ahead and let you know that I was coming,” Danny says. 

Tim rolls his eyes, still smiling. He hasn’t stopped since Danny walked through the door to his flat. It goes unsaid that forgetting to call ahead and let him know that he’s coming back to London for the first time in half a year is typical Danny Stoker behaviour, to only be lovingly expected and tolerated. 

“There,” Tim says with finality. “Date cancelled. Can’t take it back now.” 

Warmth goes off in his chest as Tim slides the phone into his pocket. His forgetting to call ahead may not have been as accidental as he’s claiming. It’s just, it’s  _ nice _ to watch Tim flake off on dates with other people in favor of hanging out with Danny. Helps the knowledge that he really does matter more to him than all of those people he has flings with sink in a little bit deeper. Makes him feel special. 

_ Take that, mystery date,  _ he thinks with a little bit of spiteful relish. Another guy was going to have an incredible night with Tim, and now they’ve been discarded like they’re  _ nothing.  _

“Oh, well, now I’ve got no  _ choice _ but to hang with you. Damn it! So close to escaping.” He throws an arm over Tim’s shoulders, grinning. Tim laughs, and tucks an arm around Danny’s middle. The warmth in his chest goes… lower. Hotter. 

“Just according to plan,” he says with joking malevolence. 

Danny loves his brother, but it’s clear to anyone with eyes that Tim  _ adores _ him right back. 

They go out drinking. It’s Tim’s suggestion, although Danny did a pretty good job of shooting down every other idea he came up with first with a pout and an ‘aww but that’s _ boring.’  _

If London’s got one thing going for it, it’s got a pretty fun club scene. 

“Well, it’s Friday,” Tim says with a shrug. “Can’t hurt.” 

“Oh right, you’ve got an office job,” Danny says. “God, how don’t you suffocate behind that desk?” 

“Contrary to what you may think, dearest brother of mine, we don’t  _ all _ start dying the second we stop moving. Like sharks.” 

“Get dressed!” he says, tossing a throw pillow at him. Tim laughs and goes and does so. He hadn’t gotten around to dressing up for his now cancelled date yet, apparently. Danny, despite coming straight from the airport, doesn’t have to change a thing about himself to be ready to go clubbing. 

While Tim’s gone changing, his big brother’s phone lights up with a message. After a moment of consideration, he picks it up, looks at it. 

It’s from tonight’s cancelled date. Some playful pouting, but good natured. They’re probably going to cash in that raincheck, once Danny’s gone again. 

\--Oh. A selfie. Lots of bared skin. ‘Here’s what you’re missing.’ 

Danny looks at it. 

He deletes the contact from Tim’s phone. 

By the time Tim comes back out, he’s carefully set the phone back down where he first picked it up. 

“Boo,” Danny says. “Where are the leather pants? Why are you wearing a shirt? Prude.” 

Tim snorts at him. “Oh, fuck off. We can’t all pull off wearing nothing but body glitter.” 

“You haven’t even  _ tried.”  _

“Brat.” Tim grins, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading for the door. Danny lingers behind him to actually admire the outfit. Tim  _ did _ go out of his way to dress nicely. It’s very… tight. As a sometimes model, he approves. 

Together, they head out into London's night club scene to have a damned good time. 

It’s fun, of course. They meet a lot of Tim’s friends, of course. They quickly become Danny’s friends as well. It just works like that for him. Always has. 

Danny really hadn’t been planning on anything else. On doing anything but exactly what Tim expected. To have a fun night out drinking and partying with his brother. But then, but then-- 

“--broke my fucking leg,” Danny says with a laugh, and the woman he’s talking to puts an aghast hand over her mouth, and she laughs as well. “So, that’s why you have to use all of the straps while paragliding.” 

“Oh my  _ god,” _ she says. 

“My real career is to be a cautionary tale for everyone around me.” 

“You magnificent idiot,” she says, and toasts him. He toasts her back, notices that his drink is running pretty low. 

“Hey, have you seen Tim?” he asks over the roar of the music. He’d been supposed to go and get them a new round, and now that he’s thinking about it, that was a while ago. 

She grins, and points over his shoulder. He turns. 

Tim’s pressed up against the wall by some pretty bird who seems to be trying her level best to eat his face. 

Danny makes himself laugh. 

“I’ll go and get the arsehole,” the woman he’s talking to shouts into his ear. “He doesn’t get to ditch us so early on!” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, and watches her wade through the crowd. It’s slow going. In the meanwhile, he watched the woman slip a hand up Tim’s shirt. Tim throws his head back and laughs. 

Danny burns. 

This is his first night back in London. Normally, he manages to hold Tim’s attention for longer than this. Normally, it takes at least a week for Tim to start sleeping around again. His first night back. The night that Tim was supposed to spend with  _ him, _ his  _ little brother.  _

He throws the rest of his drink back, and makes himself insert himself into another conversation. He acts like he’s surprised when the woman, god bless her, drags Tim back by the wrist, hair ruffled, shirt askew. 

“Tim! I thought I’d lost you!” he says. 

“Danny!” Tim says, like he’s a delightful surprise. He throws his arms around Danny, which does actually take him off guard. The smoldering, spurned anger in his chest sputters for a moment, dampening. 

The woman cackles. “I think he drank all of our drinks!” 

Everyone in the group laughs at this, either cheering or booing at Tim, calling him a filthy thief. 

“Oh, he paid for them, you jerks,” she defends him. 

“Danny,” is all Tim says, apparently not paying the slightest bit of attention to every single other person around them. He sounds happy, and with the loud roar of music and dancing and laughter all around them, Danny thinks that he might be the only one who can hear him right now. Tim’s still clutching onto him. “I missed you.” 

_ Then why were you gone with someone else, and not here with me, _ he wants to say. But he’s been swallowing back shit like that for years now. He’s an expert at it. 

“I missed you too,” he says, hugging Tim back. Tim eventually lets go, and he smiles at him, wide and unrestrained, and Danny thinks: I like him better like this. I like him drunk. 

A vague idea flickers into being at the back of his mind. He doesn’t really grasp at it, doesn’t give it his full attention, doesn’t try to fill it out. He just has the urge to see if Tim gets even more endearing the drunker he gets. 

“Hey!” Danny says, and he’s likeable, he’s charismatic, he’s  _ popular.  _ People love going along with his ideas. Always have. “We should play a drinking game!” 

Everyone cheers. 

Never Have I Ever really is perfect. Danny, after all, knows exactly which scenarios to throw out to get Tim to groan and take another drink. He might’ve cried foul by now if it were just the two of them, but it isn’t. It’s a whole crowd of Tim’s drunk, rowdy friends, and they all boo him when he tries to weasel out of taking a drink until he relents. Danny loses count of how many drinks he manages to get Tim to take. 

Eventually, he even outright surrenders. “I gotta-- gotta go piss,” he slurs. 

“Tim, noooooo,” one of his friends, who’s almost as drunk as Tim must be at this point, whines. 

“Coward!” another one cackles. 

Tim flaps a hand, and then stumbles off. Danny lets him. Plays another few rounds of the game. He looks at his phone. It’s been fifteen minutes. He frowns. 

“I’m gonna go look for Tim,” he tells one of the pretty, nameless people he’s been drinking with all night, and gets out of the booth. 

If Tim’s left with someone else… 

Well. He’ll be disappointed, he supposes. It’s not out of the question though, is it? It’d just be like Tim, to be swept away by some beautiful stranger, leaving Danny behind. He tries calling him. He doesn’t answer. He pushes his way through the crowd, searching for Tim’s familiar face. Doesn’t find it. Calls again. 

Eventually, he thinks to check the bathroom. The club’s got a nice bathroom. The doors and walls of each stall actually go all of the way up to the ceiling and down to the floor, giving people some actual privacy. 

“Tim?” he calls out. No answer. A little bit hopelessly, he opens up every single unlocked stall door, not really expecting--

And there he is. Slumped on the floor with his head between his knees, breathing slow and careful, his fly still undone from his piss, probably. Danny’s almost as surprised to see him still here in the club as he is relieved. He didn’t leave him to go and fuck someone else again. He’s still here. He smiles, and crouches down by Tim. 

“Hey,” he says sympathetically. “You seem ready to go home.” 

Tim lifts his head. He looks at him, eyes hazy and unfocused. 

“No,” he says. “I gotta… I gotta find Danny first.” 

Danny stares at him for a long moment. 

“You’re really messed up, huh?” he says eventually. Experimentally, he takes hold of Tim’s face by the corner of his jaw, tilts his head for him so that his face is aimed more accurately at Danny’s. Tim doesn’t even seem to notice. “Never even seen you this drunk before, I think.” 

“Gotta… where’s Danny? He’s-- he’s back. I wanna, I gotta see him.” 

He still doesn’t recognize him. Too drunk to even recognize his own little brother, even when staring straight into his face. The idea at the back of his head is rapidly growing bigger, brighter, more attention grabbing. 

“That’s nice,” Danny says, and he leans forwards and kisses Tim. For the first time in his life, he finally, finally kisses Tim. 

Tim makes a confused noise into it, like he’s still trying to talk, and Danny takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth. Tastes alcohol, sharp and bitter. Tastes  _ Tim. _ He moans into the kiss, can’t help it. He lingers there for a long, drawn out moment. Savoring it. 

Then he draws back, with a last parting gentle bite to Tim’s lower lip. Tim’s lips are reddened now, kiss bruised and shiny. He’s breathing quicker, louder, like he’s catching his breath. He looks dazed. 

_ Danny _ did that. An elated sort of pride blooms open inside of his chest at the sight of him like this. 

“Um,” Tim says, and he looks confused, vaguely distressed, like he can’t quite remember what the problem is but he knows there is one. “I don’t…” 

“Do you want to go and see Danny?” he asks, voice going husky. He licks his lips. Tim, he kissed  _ Tim.  _ His fingers are  _ tingling  _ with excitement. 

“Yes!” he says, too loud, eyes lighting up with recognition. He nods his head enthusiastically. “I need to go and see Danny, yeah, yeah. He’s finally home.” 

Danny grins, sharp and heated. He  _ still _ doesn’t recognize him, even after that kiss. 

It’s perfect. 

“Just a moment,” he says. “You can see Danny after we do one little thing first.” 

He gets up. He closes and locks the door to the stall they’re in. Again, nice place. It’s not particularly cramped, even with the two of them in here. He turns around, eases the toilet lid down and sits down on it. 

Tim is resting his forehead on his knee. “I like him,” he’s saying dizzily. “He’s-- he’s so good. Such a good little… I like him.” 

_ Not the way I like you, _ he thinks bitterly, and then stomps down on that thought. He’s going to have fun. A giddy sort of anticipation is thrumming through his veins. He can hardly believe he’s about to do this, that he  _ can _ do this, but… he has the perfect opportunity right in front of him. He’s going to  _ take _ it. 

Danny undoes his fly, pulls out his cock. It’s already half hard from kissing Tim, and it only takes a few strokes to get it all the way up. 

“Tim,” he says, “come here.” 

“I’ve gotta…” he says, and he doesn’t move. Danny lets out an impatient noise, and then leans over and grabs Tim by his hair. He pulls him over into the space between his legs, Tim almost falling over onto the floor if it weren’t for Danny holding firmly onto his hair. He yelps. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” he tells him, and then grabs at his jaw to position his head again. He does it roughly, and half hopes that his fingers will bruise shapes of themselves on Tim’s face. God, he  _ really _ wants that actually, now that he thinks about it. 

Tim makes a protesting, confused noise, Danny’s dick bumping up against his lips. Danny lets out a frustrated, needy noise. What he wants is _ so  _ close. His brother can suck the dick of every halfway pretty stranger in London like he’s being paid for it, but not his? He works his thumb between Tim’s lips, his teeth, holds them open. With his other hand he grabs at Tim’s hair, and then slowly pulls him down onto his cock, his mouth held open for him. 

Wet. Heat. Tim. Danny’s head tips back, and he  _ groans.  _

His thumb slips out of Tim’s mouth so that he’ll have more space to feed his dick into, and Tim does a good job and doesn’t bite him. Of course not. He’s had to have blown so many dicks by now that it must be second nature to him. Can’t even put names to faces right now, but holding a cock in his mouth? He’s a natural. He strokes Tim’s hair fondly, and thrusts his hips up into the warm, giving hole of his mouth. Tim makes a strained noise, tries to pull off his cock. It’s easy to keep him in place by tightening his grip on his hair, he’s so weak with booze. 

“Fuck, your mouth is so good,” he hisses, twitching his hips up into the tight, hot clutch of his throat. Of course he doesn’t have a gag reflex. Convenient, that. 

Tim makes another noise again, muffled by Danny’s cock. Danny laughs breathlessly at that. His big brother making muffled, messy noises around his cock! It’s everything he ever dreamed of. He takes a firm grip of his jaw and hair, and then starts properly thrusting up into him, setting a rhythm. Tim scrabbles weakly at Danny’s thighs, making helpless, perfect noises that just drive Danny towards the peak faster, _ faster.  _

He comes down his brother’s throat with a breathless cry, sheathing as much of his cock as he can inside of his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Holy fuck, you’re so perfect, you slut.” 

Tim whimpers around his cock. Danny just luxuriates in the feeling of his warm, perfect mouth wrapped around his dick, until he finally starts to reluctantly pull out of him, like someone desperate to remain inside of their toasty, comfortable bed instead of going into work. 

Fuck, but Tim looks  _ good _ just post blowjob, though. Lips swollen and red, drool going down his chin, tears in his glazed eyes. Danny leans over and grabs some toilet paper. Wipes spit off his own dick, and then Tim’s face clean with the same tissues. Tim slumps against the bathroom wall as soon as he lets go of him to stand up and put his dick away, zip up. 

“Good job,” he says. “Okay, let’s go. “

“I--” Tim says, and then has to stop to cough, his voice hoarse with the merciless throatfucking Danny had just given him. He grins so broadly that it aches a bit, so incredibly pleased with himself. He grabs Tim underneath the shoulders and levers him up to his feet, maneuvers his arm around his shoulders so he can support his drunken weight. 

“Come on,” he says, and they go, Tim stumbling along with him. He finds the group of friends, explains with fond exasperation that Tim has clearly had too much tonight and needs to go and sleep it off. The friends laugh and jeer, and Tim is too drunk to do anything but mumble. He asks after Danny a few times. Danny smiles. 

He takes them home. Splurges on a cab ride, lets Tim fall asleep in the backseat, pressed up against the window. He’s too happy, too excited to even fiddle with his phone on the ride over. 

The night is young, he’s fairly sober, Tim is fairly drunk, and there are so many things that he wants to do. 

“Come on, almost there,” he says. He’s supporting more of Tim’s weight than Tim is, at this point. “Just a little bit more, and you can lie down.” 

“‘M tired,” he mumbles, his voice still a little bit hoarse from Danny’s cock. He can’t help but grin every time he hears Tim talk. 

They stumble out of the lift together and towards the door to Tim’s flat. He fishes through Tim’s trouser pocket for his keys, unlocks the door. He gives up halfway down the corridor and just picks Tim up. Tim’s getting in the way more than anything else. He may not be a small man, but Danny’s fit, he can handle him. 

“There we go,” he says with satisfaction as he sets Tim down on his bed. Tim sprawls, and blinks up at the ceiling like he’s never seen it before. His face is flushed from the booze. It looks nice. He looks so nice like this, sprawled out and limp on his bed, expression open and hazy. 

Could stand to be wearing less clothes, though. Danny gets on that, taking off his shoes for him first, like he’s done for drunk friends before. Then he unbuckles his belt, like he hasn’t done for drunk friends before. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pants, and pulls it all off together, tossing it onto the floor. 

He takes a moment to appreciate the view, pushing Tim’s legs apart a bit. He may have caught a few glimpses here and there of Tim’s naked body as they grew up. It’s almost inevitable after all, if you live with someone. Danny forgetting to knock before entering Tim’s bedroom just as he was changing. Tim forgetting to lock the bathroom door as he was showering. Daring each other to skinny dip in the local pond. Stumbling across him fucking one of the football players underneath the bleachers, on one memorable occasion. Stuff like that. Little happy coincidences that Danny maybe found small ways to make happen more often than they would on their own. But he’s never gotten a chance to  _ linger _ before, to just stare and take it all in. 

Tim’s cunt looks lovely. Inviting. He knows he hasn’t even finished undressing him yet, but he can’t help but reach out and touch it. Spreading the soft folds so he can see more of the most vulnerable part of his brother. He strokes it gently. He’s not properly wet, not yet. Danny’s gonna fix that soon. 

Tim’s legs come up and clumsily close around Danny’s arm, pressing his hand further into his cunt. Danny’s breath catches, and his eyes flick up towards Tim’s face, where before they’d been glued to his hole. 

His face is still flushed, and his brow is furrowed. It’s hard to parse the expression on his face, what it means. 

“You want more?” he asks him softly, and he moves one of his fingers into Tim’s cunt. Tim’s breathing falters, and he shakes his head. Danny pouts. He’d been sort of hoping that he’d been able to get Tim to the perfect, magical spot of drunkenness where he couldn’t recognize that he was being touched by Danny, but that he still wanted to be touched. He can’t help but feel a bit rejected, and his voice goes sharp. “What’s the matter? Don’t you love getting fucked while you’re sloppy drunk? You’re a whore, aren’t you?” 

“I don’t… I was supposed to… hey, quit it. Fuck off,” he says weakly, and tries to shove Danny’s hand away. He’s too weak with alcohol to do anything, of course. Danny takes his hand away anyways. He’s not gotten to that part yet. 

He crawls up onto the bed, grabs the hem of Tim’s shirt, and peels it off of him in one rough motion. He reaches down and strokes Tim’s pecs, his tits. He bites his lower lip. Fuck, he really takes care of himself. 

Tim tries to sit up, falls back down without Danny even doing anything. He snorts. Tim glares up at him, not quite managing to focus on his face. 

“Later, I’m not-- I’m not in the _ mood, _ alright?” he says crabbily. 

Danny makes indignant noise at that. He’s not doubtful over the truth of that, he can see that Tim isn’t wet yet. He’s just can’t believe that still, even like this, even after all of the effort he’s put into getting him nice and drunk, Tim doesn’t want to fuck him. The entire rest of London? Sure! Danny, the most important person in his life?  _ No.  _

He can believe it, actually. 

“Fine,” he says flatly. “Have it your way.” 

He gets out of the bed. He hears Tim sigh. Danny walks over to Tim’s wardrobe. He knows exactly where to look, from some earlier brotherly snooping that’s paying off now. He opens the lowermost drawer, and yup, Tim still hasn’t moved where he keeps his toys. It’s very neat, very orderly. He grabs the bundle of rope and goes back to the bed. 

It’s easy to roll Tim onto his front and tie his hands up behind his back. Danny has many talents, and knotwork is only one of them. Tim struggles and protests sluggishly. Danny lets himself feel the flare of spiteful satisfaction of restraining Tim. He rolls him back onto his back. 

“That didn’t need to happen,” he says. “But hey, whatever you want, Tim.” 

“Arsehole, let-- let go--” 

Danny rolls his eyes, and just focuses on taking his own clothes off. He’s kind of annoyed, and he’s already come once tonight, but watching Tim squirm around on the bed, naked and tied up? Yeah, it’s kind of doing it for him. He’s half hard again. But that can wait for later. He gets back into the bed, shoves Tim’s legs apart and lies down in the space between them. Tim’s legs close around his shoulders. He’s trying to hide his cunt away from him, Danny knows, but it comes across more as if he’s trying to pull him in closer. 

He obliges him. Come close enough to smell him, intoxicating and mouth watering. 

“I’ll make you change your tune,” he promises him. He’s good at that, the few times he bothers to have relationships for any length of time. Whenever his partner would get mad at him over something stupid, it was always easily solved by bending them over something and making them come their brains out. They’d be riled up and hissing when he started, and sweet and panting by the time he was done. Worked every time. Most things work for Danny. 

“Fuck-- fuck off--  _ hah.”  _ That breathless exhalation as Danny puts his mouth to Tim’s cunt is enough to set his cock throbbing with need. He licks up into him, and fuck, he’s doing it, he’s really doing it. He’s got his  _ mouth  _ on his big brother’s  _ cunt. _ The irritation washes away like it was never there, as that sinks in. This is everything he’s ever hoped for. 

He grabs at Tim’s arse, only to lift him up to a better angle for eating him out. He licks long and patient despite himself, coaxing Tim’s cunt to go nice and wet for him. Tim lets out high pitched, bitten off noises that go straight to Danny’s dick and he grinds against the bed restlessly as he  _ sucks _ at Tim’s clit, hard and merciless. Tim’s back arches, and a moan escapes him. 

Danny hums in approval, slips a finger into Tim’s cunt. It goes inside more easily now. He’s already starting to get wet underneath Danny’s tongue. Something smug and viciously self satisfied flickers inside of his chest. Tim says he doesn’t want to have sex with him? Fuck that, Danny’s gonna  _ make _ him want to have sex with him. The proof underneath his mouth is undeniable. 

“St-- hah, stop, mm,” Tim moans, helpless noises of pleasure being torn out of him as Danny idly fingers him as he laps at his clit, a hard dragging pressure. He laughs meanly at that. Stop, he says, at the same time that he moans with how good it feels. 

“You don’t want for me to eat you out?” he asks him innocently. He doesn’t stop fingering him as he asks it, and he puts his mouth right back on him once he’s done. He works his tongue and lips with _ gusto.  _ A high, broken cry spills out of Tim’s mouth, and he pushes his pussy towards Danny’s mouth, his fingers. Danny pats his hip with his free hand at that, approving. 

“I don-- I  _ don’t,”  _ he babbles, and then cries out again as Danny sucks on his clit, adding another finger. It slides in more easily than the first, Tim’s cunt a wet, inviting glide that clings warm and tight to his fingers, like he doesn’t want to let them go. He takes a long moment to continue to lavish Tim’s clit with his attention, and then he takes his mouth off of him. Tim is  _ trembling  _ by the time he moves away. 

He keeps fingering him, of course. 

“Okay,” he says. “If that’s not what you want, then that’s fine. Bet you want to be filled up, huh? Poor thing, all empty and dripping for it.” 

“What?” he says, slow on the uptake, blinking and confused. That’s fine, Danny’s gonna catch him up on what’s happening. 

He sits up from where he was lying between Tim’s legs, his hands slipping out of his pussy, settling down on his knees, shuffling closer. Yeah, he’s properly hard now, and Tim’s properly wet. Good. He grabs Tim’s legs by the thighs. Maneuvering them is easy with how drunk he is, moving them so Tim’s legs are spread wide, knees up. His dick nudges against Tim’s entrance. He bites his lower lip, eagerness pumping hot through his veins. He’s _ finally _ going to fuck his brother. He’s going to sink his dick into his wet cunt and fuck him  _ silly.  _

Tim’s eyes go wide, finally catching up. “Nn-- no--  _ oh!”  _

Danny starts to slide into him, and a soft groan slips out of him as he does it. A part of him wants to close his eyes and savor the sensation, but he keeps them open, eyes glued raptly to Tim’s face as he slides into him.  _ Tim’s _ eyes slide shut, and a wrecked expression of anguished pleasure falls over his face, and he makes a  _ beautiful  _ weak, whining noise. 

Danny sheaths himself to the hilt in him, in one long, merciless slide, and he just luxuriates in that for one long moment. He’s buried to the root inside of his big brother’s pussy, and it’s  _ amazing.  _

“You’re so tight,” he praises himself. “Is this why everyone’s always going wild for your cunt? Because it keeps being so perfect no matter how many people fuck it?” 

Tim whimpers helplessly, and Danny really loves that noise, so he gives a shallow thrust into Tim to reward him. 

“Fuck,” he swears happy, smiling. He gives another, less shallow thrust. “Perfect, your pussy’s  _ perfect. _ You were made to be fucked into, Tim.” 

“Please,” he says brokenly. 

“Of course,” he says kindly, and he braces himself and starts properly fucking him, hard and merciless so that the bedframe starts knocking into the wall. 

Tim’s a  _ noisy _ whore, which is something he already knew. He’d bring girlfriends and boyfriends over a few times when they were teenagers, when their parents were out and Danny was supposed to be out too, but he had a sudden change of plans. It always drove him kind of wild, hearing him moan and beg through the walls. They were amazing noises that Tim should make every fucking day, he shouldn’t  _ talk  _ except to make those noises. But other people were wringing them out of him. That wasn’t right. That shouldn’t be allowed. 

But Danny’s the one making Tim _ scream  _ as he pounds into him now. He’s the one making Tim’s back arch, making his skin gleam with sweat, making him moan and plead and beg and sob as Danny lays into him, fucking harder than he’s ever fucked before. 

Grabbing Tim’s hips, he shoves him down on his cock as hard and far as he can, and he has the most satisfying orgasm of his _ life, _ spurting come deep inside of his big brother. 

“Tim,” he says breathlessly as he spirals back into his body. 

Tim sobs breathlessly, clenching his already tight pussy around Danny’s sensitive cock. He hisses a bit, and starts to draw out. Tim keens. 

“Shush,” he says. “I know you don’t like being empty, but you won’t be for long.” 

As his cock slips out of him, some of his come dribbles out of Tim’s cunt. It’s a very alluring image, and also… not, at the same time. His come should be inside of Tim and  _ stay  _ there, the way he’d come down Tim’s throat earlier. 

He gets out of the bed. Goes back to the drawer. Finds what he’s looking for. Comes back. 

“Aren’t you a well prepared slut?” he says, and fingers the come that’s dribbled out of Tim back inside where it should be, before working the plug into him, sealing it shut inside of him, where it should be. 

Tim pants. He’s been fucked too dazed for words, apparently. That’s nice. He doesn’t have to be able to say anything but  _ please _ and  _ more,  _ anyways. He’s so good like this. 

“You got a lot sweeter after a good fucking,” he notes, amused. No more pleading nos or stops, now. Good. He was starting to get tired of it. 

Tim wriggles, like he’s trying to move his arms. He can’t, of course. They’re still tied behind him securely. 

“Hey,” he says. “Settle down.” 

He leans over to kiss Tim, and Tim’s mouth is hot and open and pliant, just like his cunt was to him. It’s easy to kiss him breathless, with how fucked stupid and drunk he is. God, Danny’s never gonna get sick of the taste of him. He’s  _ delicious. _

A thought occurs to him, and he grins. He slides his lips from Tim’s mouth, which immediately starts gulping down air like he’d been suffocating. Danny starts nibbling and sucking on Tim’s throat, his collarbone. Kissing, biting. Leaving  _ hickeys. _ A lot of them. 

Tim often sports one or two of those. Danny’s always hated them. Other people leaving their mark on his brother, as if they have the fucking right. But now _ Danny’s _ leaving his mark. Covering him in more of them than anyone else has ever made, high up enough that Tim can’t possibly hide them, that anyone can’t possibly see them and know that he isn’t theirs. 

He goes lower too, because honestly, he wants to own all of Tim’s body. Tonight, he does. He leaves hickeys and bite marks on his pecs, sucking and nipping mercilessly on his nipples until Tim’s whimpering and moaning. 

“Please,” he says. “Please, please, please.” 

Danny wonders if he knows what he’s begging for any longer, or if he’s lost track by now. It doesn’t matter. 

“Your tits are so cute,” he tells him, voice rough with want and having what he wants right underneath him, ripe for the taking, and the taking, and the  _ taking.  _

He eventually leaves Tim’s abused tits behind once he decides that they’re covered in a sufficient amount of hickeys and bite marks, that his nipples are sensitive and played with enough. For now. He sinks down to give his inner thighs the same treatments. Even if no one else is gonna see them, Tim will, and he wants for him to know how thoroughly he’s been used and marked. He wants for him to remember this as much as he can every time he looks in a mirror for the next few weeks. What a lovely whore he is. 

That’s the idea that spurs him on to turn Tim over onto his stomach one he’s done marking up his thighs. Grabbing Tim by the hips, he lifts them up until he’s got his arse in the air, his knees spread for balance, his face pushed into the sheets. Tim moves, struggles faintly a bit, and it just translates to him wriggling his perfect arse in the air a bit at Danny. He laughs at the image. 

“I want to see you wince every time you sit down for the next  _ week,” _ he says. “Even if you won’t remember me, your body will.” 

He rubs at one of Tim’s arse cheeks fondly at that, just lingering for a moment in the pleasure of being able to touch something that he has the urge to reach out and fondle several times a day, whenever Tim bends down to open a cupboard or pick something up or tie his shoes, or even when he just turns around. Really,  _ such _ a good arse. 

Made for spanking, really. With an eager grin, he draws his hand back and does just that, one sharp, merciless smack to his bottom. Tim flinches and yelps, muffled into the sheets. Danny laughs at him, and does it again. Again. Again. Again. 

“Please,” Tim sobs, and Danny loves that noise, he really does, but he keeps spanking him hard and brutal until both of his arse cheeks are nice and red. When he’s done, he just admires his work for a moment while Tim cries and shakes. 

“Good job, honey,” he says, and leans down to kiss one of Tim’s reddened arse cheeks. Tim squeaks and flinches away, so sensitive that even a gentle kiss hurts him. He chuckles and rubs at the other arse cheek with his hand, copping a feel, squeezing and groping. He nips lightly with his teeth at his abused arse, and Tim makes helpless, overwhelmed pained noises and tries and fails to get away. 

His own fault for getting so drunk, really. And for being such a slut. As  _ if _ he doesn’t like this, deep down. 

He’s hard again, he realizes. He grins. Time for round three. 

The next day Danny idly pages through the photo gallery on his phone. He’d taken a lot of pictures after a certain point, the other night. Tim sucking on his fingers, cleaning his own slick off of them after he’d fingered him into coming his fucking brains out screaming. His neighbours would have to be deaf not to have heard that one, but he’s sure that they must be used to Tim being such a slut. It’s nothing new. 

He bets no one’s kept him up for that long, though. He’d taken his sweet time, fucking Tim hard in every hole as many times as he could get his dick up. At certain points, Tim had gotten confused and lost track of whether or not he’d said yes to all of it, and he’d started thrusting back. Poor, horny confused mess. He’d trained his body so well into being fucked that he couldn’t help but respond when a cock was shoved inside of him. 

Going out of his photo gallery, he shoots Tim another text, carefully increasing the concerned tone of it. It goes unread, of course. 

Danny knows the value of covering his tracks. After he’d deemed that he was done he’d left Tim where he was, a wrecked and used mess on his bed, and gone to buy a room in a cheap motel nearby. Sleeping in the same bed as him would’ve been better, but he knows how to play the long game for the stuff that really matters. 

Stepping out of the lift, he enters Tim’s flat like he hadn’t left it only some hours ago. Of course his dear brother had given him a key of his own. Just in case. 

“Tim?” he calls out, pitching his voice into tones of worry. There’s no reply. “Tim, are you here? I’m sorry if you’re just sleeping, but you haven’t been answering any of my texts, and I got sort of worried…” 

As he talks, he walks closer towards Tim’s bedroom. If he strains his ears, he can hear some muffled noises, but it’s oh so plausible that he doesn’t hear them. He opens the door. 

And there he is, still posed in the beautiful tableau he’d arranged him in before he left, as documented in several of the pictures on his phone. 

Tim is wide eyed, his gaze rapt on Danny’s face. He looks like he’s on the edge of tears. Either he’s been panicking all morning, or he just _ really  _ doesn’t want for his little brother to see him like this. Possibly both. Well, too bad for him, Danny _ is _ seeing him like this whether he wants it or not. He makes sure to arrange his expression into shock as he takes the image in for the ‘first time.’ 

He’s gagged, of course. If he could shout, one of his neighbours could’ve possibly helped him before Danny would’ve gotten to him first. That wouldn’t do. No one else should get to see Tim like this. His arms are still tied behind his back, but this time it’s a more elaborate, beautiful thing, rope criss crossing across his chest and framing it artfully. His legs are spread wide by a spreader bar as well, showing off the  _ large _ dildo Danny had pushed mercilessly into him before he left. He’s pleased to see that it’s still faintly vibrating. 

“Oh,  _ Tim,” _ he says, and hurries forwards to save his reckless, slutty big brother from his own bad decisions. He pulls the dildo out of him slowly, carefully, apologizing all the while. Tim squeezes his eyes shut, a few tears slipping down his face at the sensation, the humiliation. It takes a lot of self restraint not to just start thrusting the dildo into him, wringing yet another orgasm out of him to add to the tally. 

He gets the dildo out of him. He gets the spreader bar off. He unties him, much more ineptly than he’d tied him up, dragging it out. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says while he fumbles to get the ropes off of him. “I saw you leaving the club with some guy, and I didn’t want to get in the way of your fun so I got myself a room at a motel-- I can’t believe he’d just  _ leave  _ you like this!” 

The rope pools onto the bed. Tim muffles something that sounds like a groan of pained relief into his gag as his arms are finally freed. Danny rubs soothingly at his shoulders and arms, which must be aching. Tim scrambles at his gag with clumsy, numb fingers, trying and failing to get it off. 

“Oh,” he says, “let me, Tim.” 

He gets the gag off. As he slides it out, the protrusion that had been attached to the gag and stuck inside of Tim’s mouth for hours reveals itself, slick and shiny with his spit. Sort of like a dildo. Danny was very impressed by it, when he found it. Delighted, mostly. 

Tim coughs, weak and naked and trembling, covered in hickeys, reeking of sex. Covered in the evidence of what Danny did to him last night. He bites back a smile. 

“Danny,” Tim says, voice rough with screaming and begging and moaning and having a cock shoved down his throat multiple times. “I’m so-- please don’t--” 

He tries to cover himself up with just his shaking hands, like he’s got any modesty or dignity left to protect. 

“Tim,” he says softly, gently. “Hey. You’re my  _ brother. _ It’s okay. Don’t think about it, alright? Come here.” 

Tim’s mortified, humiliated face crumples at that, and he collapses into Danny’s open arms, burying his face into the crook of his neck, trying to hide his tears, his hot, embarrassed face. Trying to muffle the pathetic sniffles and hiccups and whimpering, choking sobs that rattle out of him. 

Danny kindly, warmly wraps his arms around him and comforts him, graciously ignoring that his brother’s a naked, cum streaked, fucked out  _ mess _ right now. What else could he expect from him, after all? 

“Shh,” he says. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, Tim. I’ve got you. I’m here now.” 

Tim clings onto him desperately, like he’s the only solid thing in the world. 

That should teach him, trying to sleep around while Danny’s visiting him. Tim’s  _ his. _ Now, though, he hugs and comforts and takes care of him as best as he can, because Tim  _ is _ his brother. 

And Danny  _ loves _ his brother. 


End file.
